


This Is About Marking As In Hurting

by pasdexcuses



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasdexcuses/pseuds/pasdexcuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angry sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is About Marking As In Hurting

**Disclaimer:** This work is based on the characters as portrayed in the movie The Social Network, not real people. And, obviously, I’m not making any money from this.

**_This Is About Marking As In Hurting_ **

It’s not about making things better. _Nothing_ can make things better. It’s about taking as in possessing, as in ownership. It’s about marking as in hurting. It’s not about being gentle or about having what he’s alway’s wanted. No, he’ll never have that. That’s something he cannot, will not forget. Eduardo is here to _take_. He doesn’t give a shit if Mark doesn’t like it like this. He’ll take whatever he likes and won’t give anything back. _That_ is how this will play out. 

This what Eduardo tells himself as he waits for Mark to step in. He plays over and over the contracts and the diluted shares and Sean Park’s fucking _face_ so he won’t forget what anger feels like. These are the things Eduardo allows himself to remember so that there’ll be no regrets; so he won’t stop halfway. 

It’s late, very late when Eduardo hears the rustle of keys at the door. He has to suppress this impulse he has to open it. This is not about helping. 

Upon seeing him, Mark sighs. “Whatever it is that you want, Eduardo, I don’t have time for it.” 

Like hell he doesn’t. 

Mark stares at Eduardo, holding the door open. It’s such a small gesture. He’s just holding the door open. And yet that’s saying a lot more than Mark’s words. _Get out_. _I don’t have time for you_. Striding to the door, Eduardo remembers to breathe, remembers he _needs this_. As he removes Mark’s grip from the doorknob, Eduardo pushes the door close, pinning Mark against it. 

“You’re mistaken if you think I give a fuck,” he mutters close to Mark’s ear.

Mark shivers visibly, his whole spine straightening up at Eduardo’s proximity. He invades Mark’s personal space even further as he presses a leg in between Mark’s. Eduardo is breathing on Mark’s face, grinding their hips impossibly together while Mark keeps still, waiting for Eduardo’s next move. 

“Aren’t you gonna push me away?” Eduardo asks not because he’s insecure but because he’s daring Mark to _do_ something. 

He knows Mark won’t. He just shrugs like he doesn’t care, like Eduardo isn’t about to fuck him dry against this door. It makes Eduardo smirk.

It takes one, two, three, four thrusts of Eduardo’s hips into Mark’s for him to bite down on his bottom lip. 

He starts. 

With his mouth on Mark’s jaw, Eduardo scratches the skin where Mark’s face meets his neck. He bites down hard, with purpose, knowing this will leave marks. He pulls Mark’s hair, yanking his head back, exposing more of his neck that Eduardo does not hesitate to ravish. Sinking his teeth on Mark’s skin, Eduardo can feel Mark’s quickened pulse, erratic and all over the place. Fast and hard as Mark anticipates a bite. Slower when the bite doesn’t come. Jumping when Mark feels Eduardo’s tongue darting out of his mouth, tracing a vertical line along Mark’s neck. 

Mark moans with Eduardo’s body pressed up against his. It is so, so easy, Eduardo has to wonder if maybe this could have gone otherwise. If maybe Mark wouldn’t have refused him back in his dorm. He wonders if he could have climbed in Mark’s bed, kissing him slow like he wants to do now. But this is not about that.   

Eduardo’s mind rushes back to the present where everything is raw and dark. He spreads his hand on the door for leverage as his other hand sneaks under Mark’s shirt. His fingers climb their way up Mark’s bare torso until they reach his nipple. Eduardo has removed his mouth from Mark’s neck and placed it on his collarbone. He pinches hard as he sucks another bruise on Mark’s pale skin. Mark lets out a soft sigh, and Eduardo does it again. And again, and again until Mark is writhing underneath him, meeting Eduardo’s sharp thrusts.  

A pinch, a moan, a thrust, a thrust. So much lust and treachery. So much fucking want. A moan, loud and echoing off the walls. Another thrust. 

“ _Wardo_ ,” Mark manages in between ragged breaths with a broken voice.

Eduardo pries apart Mark’s thighs in response, letting his fingers slide out from under Mark’s shirt. And Mark seems to read his mind because without Eduardo saying a thing, he removes his jacket and shirt, tossing them on the floor. Mark stands in front of Eduardo, half-naked and expecting. Eduardo could leave him like this. It isn’t like Mark doesn’t deserve this. But Eduardo isn’t here for revenge.

Eduardo takes a look at Mark’s chest. It looks pale and untouched. Eduardo wants to sink in his teeth on that smooth skin, color it with his mouth. He wants Mark to stare at his own body and remember Eduardo all over it, covering it with marks. He wants Mark to remember that for one night he belonged to someone other than himself. So he starts where he let off. On Mark’s collarbone, down to one of Mark’s nipples while Eduardo’s thumbs dig deep on either side of Mark’s waist. 

Mark whimpers as Eduardo’s gets on his knees, his tongue licking its way to his bellybutton. Eduardo has Mark rooted in place with his hands and he can see Mark trying to struggle out of his grip. He lets his thumbs dig even deeper on Mark’s waist. His breath is right in front of Mark’s crotch but he’s making no move to touch Mark below the hem of his trousers. 

Moving his hand downwards to Mark’s ankle, Eduardo places it on Mark’s shoe. “Take them off,” he orders.

In a matter of seconds Mark’s shoes are discarded somewhere near his shirt and jacket. Like this, Eduardo feels drunk on power and lust. He wants to yank Mark’s trousers down, scratch the inside of his thighs, make him go crazy with just the touch of his fingertips. Instead, Eduardo takes his time playing with the button on Mark’s trouser. 

“So, you like this?”

Eduardo knows the smirk on his face is going to drive Mark mad. He knows Mark hates him a little but for having so much control over the situation. Eduardo thrives on this newfound power, his hands steady as they take a place once again on Mark’s hips. With his face this close to Mark’s crotch, Eduardo makes sure every time he exhales, his breath is on Mark’s cock. And then, without any hesitation, Eduardo is running his tongue over the tip. It’s leaking already. 

Mark growls above Eduardo, deep and torn like Eduardo’s tongue on his cock is best thing that has ever happened to him. He’s really fucking loud. Porn star loud. And so, so wanton. Mark panting his name in shallow breaths almost has Eduardo forgetting that he can’t be gentle. That he can’t have this the way he really wants it. 

Eduardo wants to hum and murmur cheesy things with Mark’s cock in his mouth. He wants to say ‘ _I love you_ ’ and ‘ _please let’s be like this forever_ ’ but then Mark’s fingers are pulling lightly on Eduardo’s hair. It all snaps into focus in one second where his life with Mark flashes through his mind and it’s so fucking ridiculous. Because Mark is touching him, _actually touching him_ , for the first time since Eduardo can’t remember when. Because Mark has his fingers on his hair, and Eduardo has imagined this moment so many times he’s lost count. 

Eduardo used to imagine how Mark’s fingers would feel on his scalp. How he would move them in sweet desperation as Eduardo licked his cock up and down, over and over. And Mark’s fingers, they’re so fucking real on him right now. And Eduardo wants, _wanted_ this. For so long. Eduardo _wanted_ and Mark’s fingers pull and pull, and his own heart is racing. And this is so wrong. This is messed up and he can’t breathe, he can’t think, he can’t move, and…

Eduardo’s hand is on Mark’s wrists. He’s standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand and staring down at Mark.He turns Mark around so that his back is facing Eduardo, his weight fully pressed against Mark and maybe it’s a little bit like he’s crushing Mark, a little bit like he’s making him choke from the lack of air between him and the door but Eduardo doesn’t give a damn. 

“Do _not_ touch me,” he snarls. “Under no circumstance are you to touch me. _Ever_.” Pushing against Mark, Eduardo slams him  against the door. He watches Mark wince. “Do I make myself clear?” he spats before Mark can do anything.

When Mark doesn’t answer, Eduardo tightens his grip. “ _Answer me_.”

“Yes.”

It’s easier to touch Mark’s cock like this. It’s easier to trace circles over its tip with his thumb as Eduardo sinks his teeth on the crook of Mark’s neck. His touches are all aggressive and nothing like himself. 

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down tomorrow. I’m going to fuck you until your come splatters on this door and mine slides down your thigh. I’m going to fuck you until your knees buckle and I have to make sure you don’t fall. I’ll fuck you hard so you’ll never forget what it feels like.”

Eduardo places his hand in front of Mark’s mouth.

“Spit.”

Mark doesn’t and Eduardo doesn’t take his hand away. Instead, he puts a finger on Mark’s mouth, moving it slowly along the line of his bottom lip. As Mark stays still, Eduardo pushes his finger inside, moving it around, mimicking what he wants to do with his tongue. Eduardo maps out Mark’s teeth before his finger twirls with Mark’s tongue. He makes sure to touch every spot until he has Mark moaning against his finger. Once Eduardo is certain Mark is going to miss his finger quiet dearly, he pulls out.

With his hand in front of Mark, Eduardo orders again. “Spit.” 

This time, Mark does as he’s told. Eduardo’s fingers are already wet from their incursion into Mark’s mouth but the wetness is barely enough. His hand travels to Mark’s ass, where he squeezes making Mark moan. He’s got a hand on Mark’s cock while the pries apart Mark’s thighs. His wet hand brushes up against the skin where Mark’s ass meets his thighs. His finger goes in. It’s tight. Eduardo gulps, thinking about Mark tightly wrapped around him. 

He moves his finger. Once he’s sure Mark has loosened up, Eduardo adds a second finger. He scissors Mark with his hand still on his cock and his tongue tracing patterns behind Mark’s ear. Eduardo crooks his fingers forward, bites Mark’s ear. 

“Oh, God.” Mark sounds broken and horny as he moans, pushing back on Eduardo’s fingers.

Eduardo fucks Mark with his fingers, adds a third and crooks them forward. He can feel Mark’s sticky pre-come sliding down his hand. Brushing and crooking forward, his fingers work on Mark like there’s no tomorrow until Mark’s thighs quiver and he keeps at it, knowing Mark wants to come but Eduardo’s grip on him is too hard. Eduardo is going to make Mark beg for it. 

“What do you want, Mark?” Eduardo demands, hot in Mark’s ear. 

“ _Fuck_.” Mark’s moan is low, guttural and primal.  

“I didn’t quite get that. Speak up.”

“Fuck me,” Mark mumbles out, rushed and bothered.

“Come again?” Eduardo asks, his thumb circling Mark’s tip. Mark’s pre-come still dripping down his hand. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Eduardo doesn’t have to be asked twice. 

Removing his fingers, Eduardo enters Mark slowly, carefully. He has imagined this moment for so long, he can’t believe it’s finally happening. Mark winces a little but Eduardo is holding him steady. In his fantasies, Eduardo would whisper ‘ _are you okay?_ ’ and ‘ _I love you, you’re amazing_ ’. Here, Eduardo has to swallow his words and questions. He keeps himself from asking if Mark’s okay, if he’s hurting him. Eduardo knows Mark can take it. He _knows_ and still, he worries. Somewhere in his mind, Eduardo thinks he doesn’t want to hurt Mark. Not like this. Sex is supposed to be special and gentle and _it’s their first time_. It’s their first time like this. 

And then Eduardo thinks about Mark and Kirkland. He thinks about them tangled in Mark’s sheets and how much he wants _that_ and instead he’s stuck with _this_. Eduardo thinks about the shares and Facebook and okay, he’s angry again. It’s so easy.

Mark doesn’t stop moaning, which is a good thing. It’s an even better thing when he starts pushing back into Eduardo using the door as leverage. Mark tightens around him and Eduardo knows everything is okay. They fall into a quick, desperate rhythm that has Mark yielding to Eduardo’s touch. Mark shudders as Eduardo switches his angle. He presses into Eduardo’s chest much deliberately, rocking his hips and his hands still on the door. Eduardo wonders what Mark’s face looks like. If maybe his lips are parted and simply _begging_ for Eduardo’s mouth on them. He wonders if Mark wants to see Eduardo as much as he does. 

Yet, before Eduardo succumbs to the urge to turn Mark around, a groan rips through Mark and he’s screaming ‘ _Wardo_ ’ and ‘ _wanted this since I saw you_ ’ over and over. It drives Eduardo insane with hurt and anger at Mark but mostly at himself because he didn’t want their first time to be about Facebook and rage. He wanted it to be a love and caring. About giving and having as in trusting. 

Eduardo wants so many things he can’t have. He doesn’t get them. He’s gets Mark up against his front door, moaning and shuddering and quivering and begging and Eduardo gives in. Mark comes first, his spasming body bringing Eduardo over the edge. 

They stay like that until the chill of the night starts getting to them. Once Eduardo lets go off him, Mark turns around. He takes one look at Eduardo before he crushes their mouths together. Mark tastes like redbull and maybe beer. He has his tongue inside Eduardo’s mouth and this is the first time they’re kissing. 

Eduardo wants to stop him. Stop, rewind, go back. Replay. He knows Mark is doing this precisely because Eduardo was avoiding it. This is Mark’s way of saying Eduardo can’t have things the way he wants them. It stings. 

“We should have done this before,” Mark says on Eduardo lips.

Taking a few steps back, Eduardo rubs his mouth with the back of his hand trying to get rid of Mark all over his body even thought that’s impossible. 

“So you’d get even more kicks out of fucking me over?” Eduardo asks, his tone bitter. 

“No! Wardo that’s—“ 

“Don’t call me that, Mark. Don’t call me Wardo and don’t touch me and don’t _ever_ try contacting me again.” Breathe, just breathe. “I hate you.”

Eduardo walks out into the night, this odd feeling of losing something creeping over him. He knows it feels like he just lost Mark. The truth is, Eduardo lost Mark a long time ago. What happened tonight was just a stolen moment. Eduardo will wake up with scratches and bruises that will testify what happened was not a dream. He’ll wake up sore and angry. He’ll wake up thinking about Mark’s lips on his and the way his skin felt so deliciously precarious as sweat ran down his legs and Mark pushed into him moaning his name. He’ll wake up wishing he could have done things differently. 

But everything will fade away, and all Eduardo Saverin will have left is the memory of the night his fingers sank deep into Mark Zuckerberg’s skin and his heart raced so fast and hard he forgot for a moment they weren’t really friends.  
  
 **A/N:** Clearly, I've been having dom!Eduardo in my mind for quite a while. 


End file.
